


Love Hurts

by InsideMyBrain



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Clueless Sweden, Dark!Finland, Fluff, Human AU, Human Names Used, M/M, One Shot, Plot Twist, SuFin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-11
Updated: 2016-05-11
Packaged: 2018-06-07 19:53:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6821776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsideMyBrain/pseuds/InsideMyBrain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Berwald has loved Tino before he even knew what love was. He thinks that love will never be returned, until one day Tino asks him on a date. Everything seems perfect until they go to Tino's house after the date, and Berwald realizes Tino isn't the man he fell for. One-sided SuFin. 3000 words.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love Hurts

**Author's Note:**

> yes I made Tino's eyes brown because I like it better and yes Berwald pronounces his vowels I don't care if he has a speech impediment in canon it kills the mood of this oneshot so he speaks normally ok

“Berwald.” 

No response from the stoic Swede.

“Berwald?”

Still nothing. 

“Berwald!” 

Berwald jumped, knocking over his water glass. Luckily, it was empty. “Sorry,” He mumbled, righting it again. “What were you saying?” 

His boss sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I just asked what sales were over the last month.”

“They rose 13.4%.” Berwald said, and his boss gave a nod of approval before continuing with the presentation. 

Berwald sighed internally and looked at the view in front of him, which was the adorable Finn, Tino. 

Berwald and Tino had known each other for almost their entire lives. They'd played together as children, went to school and college together, and now they worked at the same company. Almost their entire lives spent together and still Berwald wasn't confident enough to admit his crush on Tino. He'd had a crush on him for as long as he could remember. It persisted all through high school and college, and it was still strong as ever in adulthood. Part of Berwald felt like a pathetic fool for being in love with his best friend for so long, but another part of him didn't care. He supposed this was the part of him that continued to hope and want, against all reason and common sense. The other part of him, the part that scolded his heart for beating so fast when Tino looked at him, was the part that held Berwald back from simply asking Tino out on a date. Because this part of him whispered demoralizing truths in his ear whenever Tino smiled. Things like, ‘he'll never love you,’ or, ‘it'd be impossible for him to think of you as any more than a friend.’ Or perhaps, the worst one of all: ‘if you tried to make a move, he'd call you a sick perv and never speak to you again.’ 

So yeah, loving Tino hurt sometimes. But when he could silence that part of himself, loving Tino was wonderful. He was beautiful, with his wide, innocent brown eyes and soft, feathery blond hair. And the small smile he did, or the little giggle, or his sweetness and cheerfulness, or anything about him. Berwald could go on for days about the things he found attractive about Tino. 

“Berwald? The meeting's over.” Looking up with a start, Berwald found he had zoned out and everyone had left the meeting room. He turned to the object of his desire and tried to smile. It only came out as stretching his lips across his face. 

Tino smiled at him and waited for Berwald to pack up his briefcase. 

The two walked back to their cubicles together, a comfortable silence between them. Berwald didn't know if Tino felt it, but he felt as if there was a glass wall of ‘no’ between them, blocking Tino from all the things Berwald wanted to say and do. At that precise moment, both parts of him doubled in strength, his heart thumping painfully loudly in his chest while the other part whispered things to him.

‘Stop hoping,’ It said tauntingly, as Berwald fixed his gaze on the place where Tino's jaw melded into his neck. ‘You don't stand a snowball's chance in hell. And look away, for God's sake. It's creepy.’ 

Berwald looked away.

The office was busy that day, as it always was right after the monthly meeting. The sounds of people typing on computers, phones ringing, and loud voices were filling the air. 

The company they worked for was a Finnish division of an international company whose headquarters were based in America. They sold office supplies, a boring company, but the job was hard work. Berwald was head of his department, having only recently been promoted. His division was in charge of sales, calculating them, coming up with statistics, projecting future sales. It was a demanding job, and had Tino not been there, he might have quit and gone to work at an Ikea. 

Being head of the department didn't mean he got any special privileges, though. He stayed in his noisy, cramped cubicle, with his cheap computer that didn't turn on half the time, same as everyone else in the department. Only he got longer hours and a heavier workload. Oh, joy. 

“Got a lot of work today?” Tino asked sympathetically, looking at the large stack of paperwork on Berwald's desk. 

“When don't I?” Berwald grumbled, picking up a pen and taking the first sheet of paper off the stack. 

Tino giggled, the little noise that made Berwald's heart bob in his chest like a buoy in the ocean. “Good luck.” He smiled, and left Berwald's cubicle to go to his own, only one away. 

“I'll need it.” Berwald said to the air. He then adjusted his glasses and began reading the document. 

The rest of the day passed by slow as a slug. When Berwald was finally finished all his work, it was late and everyone had left. He took off his glasses, closed his eyelids over his sea-green eyes and rested his head on his desk. His head was pounding and he was exhausted. He just wanted to fall asleep right then and there. 

A clear if the throat made him stand up in a flash, heart hammering, eyes wide. He quickly shoved his glasses onto his face and saw Tino's face looming out at him from the dark.

“Sorry I startled you.” He said. There was a soft smile adorning his features. His face was half-lit from the glow of Berwald's desk lamp, making him seem eerie and lovely at the same time. Berwald couldn't put his finger on it, but there was something different about Tino. Something off. 

“’S alright.” Berwald pushed his glasses onto his forehead to rub his eyes. “What are you doing here so late?” 

“I was waiting for you.” Tino said shyly. That's when it struck Berwald- Tino was nervous. He hardly ever got nervous. In fact, Berwald couldn't even remember the last time Tino was like this. He swayed back and forth on his small feet, and his hands were clasped behind his back. His cheeks were tinged light pink and his eyes were focused on Berwald's pen, lying on the desk. 

Berwald's heart soared, his mind racing with a million different possibilities and hopes and doubts and fears, the two parts of him screaming at each other, making his stomach tumble as if it was in a washing machine. 

“Um,” Tino stuttered, and Berwald's heart melted, “I don't know how I'm going to say this, but I guess I just will. Here goes.” He took a deep breath. “I really like you. I like you more than a friend. I've had the biggest crush on you ever since high school, and it's been killing me having you by my side for all these years, only as a friend and nothing more. So, I was just wondering, maybe you'd like to go out on a date with me sometime? You don't have to say yes if you don't want, we can go back to being friends and we'll pretend this never happened.” 

Berwald was a bundle of emotions. His whole body buzzed, he felt like he was on fire, and everything he ever wanted to say to Tino turned into incoherent screaming. It was as if his brain turned into a bowl of black sludge, went on a roller coaster, and then flung itself off a cliff, landing in the ocean, where it was dragged about by the current and dashed hopelessly against sharp rocks, then shriveled up and died. 

He couldn't process what was happening. 

Berwald was surprised he had enough brain cells left to spit out, “Yes, of course. I've felt the same, ever since childhood.” 

Tino looked delighted, and ran forward to hug him. As he embraced the taller man, he placed a tentative kiss on his cheek, leaving a tear behind. 

“Saturday? That new restaurant that opened last week?” Tino asked, eyes glowing. Berwald nodded, not really caring. Tino could have suggested they swim in a volcano and he would have said yes. Tino embraced him again, murmuring, “I'll pick you up at seven,” before running off into the dark office. A few moments later, there was a bang and Tino cried out, “Ow!” And then followed it up with, “I'm okay!” 

Berwald grinned. He smiled so big his face hurt. He grinned and grinned, all the way home, in the shower, lying in bed waiting for sleep to take him. 

He fell asleep with a smile on his face. 

\------------

In the days leading up to Saturday, Berwald couldn't stop thinking about Tino. Tino seemed equally happy and excited, staying at his cubicle to talk even when he was swamped with work. He whistled and skipped, and nothing could take the smile off his face. 

But finally the day arrived, and Berwald was ready. He'd spent hours deciding on what to wear. This tie or that tie? Should he wear a tie at all? Roll up the sleeves of his shirt or not? Unbutton the first button on his shirt or do it up all the way? He was a nervous wreck, but grinning and happy like an idiot. The part of him that doubted that Tino felt something for him tried to convince him it was a scam, or a joke, or not real in some way. He silenced that part of himself. It was real, and it was happening.

His doorbell rang.

It was happening now. 

Berwald rushed to the door, and upon wrenching it open, found Tino on his doorstep. His eyes sparkled, his blond hair was still damp from a shower, and glowed in Berwald's porch lights. He was wearing a red dress shirt, the collar stiffly ironed and one button undone. He smiled softly and stepped forward to hug Berwald. 

“Shall we go then?” He asked, after their awkward hug. 

“Sure.” Berwald said, and followed Tino to his car. 

The date was normal. They talked about things they normally talked about. They laughed, complimented the food, complained about work. They were themselves. And it felt so surreal and lovely and awkward at times, but the entire date Berwald had a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. He felt like he was wrapped up in a big warm blanket about to fall asleep, but at the same time, absolutely awake and alert, like he was riding a horse that was galloping at full speed through a dense forest. It was amazing, the best feeling in the world, and Berwald wouldn't have sold this moment for anything. 

After they finished their meal, they ended up at Tino's house. He said he tried to make some Swedish meatballs, Berwald's favourite food. Berwald said he'd try them, and so they went to Tino's house. 

Tino's house was furnished playfully, with furniture like a burnt-orange couch and a round, bubble-like mirror that made you look like a fish. The floor was dark polished wood, but several rugs were scattered across it, one that looked Persian or Arabic, another that looked like a dead polar bear, and another that honestly looked like a bathmat. In his kitchen, the table was set for two, the art deco chandelier casting a soft glow about the room. Tino had probably never owned a matching set of dishes in his life, and the dishes on his table supported this theory; one of the plates was small and had a golden ring around the edge, and the other was big, with a design of a rose in the centre. The silverware were different sizes, and at one place there was a mug while at the other there was a fancy wineglass. 

“Just sit down, I'll get the meatballs.” Tino chirped, and disappeared into the kitchen. 

Berwald seated himself at the place with the wineglass, and folded his hands in his lap, smiling to himself. 

He was so lucky. Here he was, on a date with his best friend, who'd laboured all night to make him his favourite food after taking him out for dinner. 

Berwald heard Tino taking a container out of the fridge and putting it into the microwave to heat up. He whistled as he waited, and Berwald leaned back in his chair, listening to whatever tune was coming out of Tino's lips. He didn't recognize it, but it was a catchy tune, and he tapped his feet along to it. 

Then the microwave beeped, and Berwald sat up straight as Tino them into the kitchen. 

“Try one.” Tino told him, so Berwald speared one with his fork and put it in his mouth. 

It was hot, so he had to move it around in his mouth a lot so as not to burn his tongue. But it was delicious, and his Tino as much, which lit up his face with happiness. 

Berwald sighed and smiled at Tino. Tino smiled back, then spoke. 

“Thank you for coming on this date with me, Berwald.” He said. He leaned forward and took Berwald's hand, then stood up. Berwald did too, and let himself be pulled into Tino's embrace. “I can't thank you enough,” He whispered, and kissed him. 

It was a sweet kiss, a soft, warm, tender kiss, but one that conveyed a lot of meaning. Berwald pulled Tino closer and deepened the kiss, and in return Tino slipped his tongue into Berwald's mouth. The kiss was still slow, so Berwald brought his hands up to Tino's head and twined his fingers into his hair, quickening the pace. Tino took a step forward, forcing Berwald to take a step back, and slid his hands down from Berwald's neck to his waist. Tino took a few more steps forward, and Berwald blindly walked backwards, letting Tino take the lead. Tino kept walking, still kissing Berwald, slowly leading him out of the kitchen. Berwald let Tino push him into living room, down the hall, and into another room. The kiss was sweet and hot and intense, and Tino's hands were everywhere. And suddenly Berwald felt something hit the back of knees, and Tino pushed him onto a bed. 

Berwald lay on his back as Tino climbed on top of him, running his lips over Berwald's skin and kissing his neck while undoing the buttons on Berwald's shirt. His shirt was all the way undone when suddenly Tino stopped everything. He lifted his hands from Berwald's torso and cupped his cheeks, pressing their foreheads together. 

“I need to tell you something.” He murmured.

“Yes?” Berwald prompted. 

“I've never felt anything for you.” 

Berwald almost didn't understand what Tino had said. “What?” He asked incredulously.

“It's true.” Tino whispered. “I've been using you this whole time.” 

It was absurd. Neither of them had moved, and their foreheads still leaned against each other. Berwald stared into Tino's eyes. Only moments before, those eyes had been smoldering. Now, there was only a cold gleam. 

The realization hit Berwald right then, like a load of bricks had been dropped on him. No, more like an entire cement truck. The warm feeling he'd had in the pit of his stomach turned to ice. It felt like his body was stuffed with ice cubes, constricting his throat and freezing him from the inside out. The two parts of him were screaming at each other, but it sounded distant and far away. All he could focus on was Tino's maniacal smile, and his cold, cold eyes. 

Tino laughed, a humourless chuckle, so different from his sweet little giggles, and sat up. This was the moment Berwald began to feel scared.

“Why?” He asked. 

“Because you're useful. You always have been. Back in college, high school, hell, even elementary school, I only used you to get good marks. I've known about your stupid little crush for years.” Tino smirked when he saw Berwald flinch at the word ‘stupid’. “I just used it to my advantage. I knew you wouldn't hesitate to do anything I told you, so I could get away with it. I've used you this whole time.” He dragged out the last few words. 

Tears pricked the corners of Berwald's eyes, and he blinked rapidly. “What about today? The whole date, when you asked me out? Our entire lives?!” 

Tino's grin grew. “Im a pretty good actor, huh? I think I could become really famous as a movie star.”

There was a beat of silence, in which Tino appeared to be thinking. Then he shook his head, and continued. 

“But I'm only interested in the corporate ladder. I don't need fame to be rich. And now, I don't need you anymore.”

“What are you talking about?” Berwald whispered, horrified. 

“Ever since you got your promotion, I've been planning this. Rehearsing just what I'd say, because I knew how you'd react. You see, once you're gone, I'll be the prime person to take your job. And from there, I'll work my way up to head of the division, and then I'll be transferred to America where all the big shots are. That's where I belong, having the time of my life in Los Angeles, not working a shit job in Finland.” 

Tino leaned back down, and Berwald tried to shift away, but he wasn't going for Berwald at all. He reached under the mattress and grasped something. He pulled it out, and Berwald's pupils dilated in fear as he saw the object was a knife. It was a meat cleaver, one of those big ones the butchers used to chop up pigs. 

“Please, don't!” Berwald said, raising his hands to shield his face. Tino only laughed. 

“Love hurts, doesn't it, Berwald?” He whispered. “It feels bad finding out innocent little Tino isn't who you thought he was, doesn't it?” He snickered again. “Enjoy our last moments together.” He mocked, the swung the meat cleaver down towards Berwald's throat. 

Time slowed down. The knife flashed silver, Tino's demented laugh echoed in his ears. How could this be happening? His beloved, sweet Tino. 

The cleaver made contact with his skin. 

Blood burst like fireworks, splattering Tino and the knife. The pain was the worst, it jolted through him like a bolt of lightning. Everything was buzzing, his vision was clouding over, he could hardly feel anything except for that awful electric pain, ripping his very soul apart. 

Everything went black.

And a voice screamed inside his ear, for the very last time, ‘You are a pathetic fool!’ 

And it was right. 

Then all was silent.

**Author's Note:**

> Have I killed ur otp yet


End file.
